


Like a Peach

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, bites/bruises, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 10:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shion bruises easily</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Peach

Shion has always bruised easily. It's a trait he gets from his mother. When he was younger she'd always laugh over the splotches of color comparing them with her own from where she accidentally dropped a pan on her foot the other day. Even in Chronos where no one should be able to get hurt, Shion still managed to bruise himself in some way or other. It shouldn't be a surprise that here in the West Block, so far removed from the sterile padding of No. 6 that Shion might find himself more black and blue than usual. 

And yet somehow, with the silvering of his hair, the bruises stand out more against his skin, darker, more livid than in the past. Maybe something in his very epidermis has changed, some fundamental part of who he is protesting the harshness of such a world in brutally vivid colors. Shion takes to counting them, placing the origin of each one, watching them fade slowly to be replaced by more. It's easier than simply looking at himself naked in the full length mirror on the wall adjacent to the shower. The bruises are consistent, less reminders of change than the red snake-scar slinking up his body. It becomes a habit. And as Shion recalls each one, he finds he can place more and more blame on Nezumi, This is unsurprising. Nezumi lives his life in broad gesticulations, sharp retorts and passionate aggression towards the whole world. Shion's never lived in close proximity to someone quite so forceful before. It isn't even intentional, Shion thinks. Nezumi preaches that he should remain restrained to pass through the streets of the West Block unharmed and unnoticed, but Nezumi exerts his life force with his very presence marching through the world as if daring it to get in his way. And often enough Shion is in his way. There's the sore spot on his hip, mottled purple to prove it, where Nezumi kneed him in his sleep two nights ago, and the corresponding bar of blue fading to green edges on Shion's forearm where he caught himself from falling out of bed against metal bedframe. There are the set of fingerprints encircling just above the opposite wrist where Nezumi pulled him out of what Shion had failed to realize was a about to become a fistfight. 

Nezumi had taken the punch for him and only a slight smudge to his cheek for the rest of the day where Shion might have been blue for a week. It is patently unfair. Even so, it makes Shion glad of his long sleeved attire. Shion has seen more bruising here in the West Block than ever in No. 6, even in Lost Town. They show on the scrawny legs of children running by him in the market, on the forearms of the old women selling scraps of cloth and on the faces of young men, glaring darkly from the alleys as they pass. Shion keeps his clothes neat and his face clean and his bruises tucked neatly under his shirts. The West Block won't see where it's gotten him, Nezumi won't see it either. Because it's not Nezumi's fault. Shion is too maleable, still to soft, No. 6 hanging over him like a blanket he just can't shake off. If no one sees, then he can still appear unaffected, strong. 

So Shion continues to keep careful track of his bruises, turning before the mirror each day to make sure there are none he can't cover. Sometimes he has to make small adjustments, poping his collar just a little, and smoothing down his hair over his neck to cover the mark from where the back of his neck met the bookshelf in an argument with Nezumi over his insistence on reading to the neighborhood children while Nezumi is out. Or making sure to keep his sleeves rolled down covering where he hit his arm against the fountain struggling with one of Inukashi's dogs. It means his sleeves get soaked and Inukashi teases him for his propriety. Shion doesn't point out that Inukashi never removes their shirt, even on the hottest days when even Nezumi strips down. 

One evening, Shion is in the middle of his before-shower routine, craning over his left shoulder to see his back in the mirror, when the door to the bathroom bangs open.  
"Sorry, I've got an audition in ten minutes so-" Nezumi is saying as he enters. He stops cold when he sees Shion. Shion doesn't even have time to be embarrassed about his naked state before cold fury sweeps over Nezumi's face. He grabs Shion by his his shoulders, fingers gripping tight as if Shion might try to run away.  
"Who did this to you?" Nezumi's words are practically incandescent and Shion feels pity for the poor sucker who's about to die. There will probably be matching handprints on his shoulders in a day Shion thinks and it makes him smile as he shakes his head.  
"Nobody did this to me. At least not." Nezumi looks unconvinced. Completely swayed from his goal to leave the house quickly Shion knows Nezumi will be unbudgeable until he gets his answer. "Look," Shion says, almost exasperated in the face of Nezumi's stubborn concern, "I bruise easily. Half of these are your fault actually." Nezumi's lips twist, disbelief, and consternation, some anger there still, as if he thinks Shion's lying to him.  
"This," Shion touches two fingers to his right arm, just above the elbow, "is from you dragging me through the market yesterday because I wasn't moving fast enough and, well, you didn't tell me we were being followed. If I'd know someone was chasing us. Nevermind. This," Shion points to a red-purple sunset across his left shin, "is from you kicking me for teasing you yesterday." Nezumi's expression is shifting, the anger falling away to something almost akin to horror. Nezumi's hands leave his shoulders, floating away gently as if afraid to touch him. Then Nezumi extends a hand, trails delicate fingers over Shion's right arm, the shape his hand has left. "And that," Shion continues indicating the green coloring extending from behind the red overlay on the same shin, "is from tripping over the pile of books you idiotically put in the middle of the floor." Shion thinks he has a right to sound put out over that one, "and those, Shion indicates the two perfect sets of fingers over his hips, "are from where you kept me from falling off your ridculously wobbly ladder when I tried to put the books back in their proper place on your far too tall bookshelves."  
"That's why I never put them away." Nezumi mutters, but he sounds utterly contrite. His fingers drift from Shion's arm to feather over the spots of bruising on his hips. The touch faint, more the warmth of his hands than any actual skin to skin contact. Still, it makes Shion shiver. Shion is suddenly accutely aware of the fact that he is standing stark naked in the bathroom with Nezumi's hands wandering tenderly gentle over his body. Shion wonders if it's possible to blush hard enough to bruise. If anyone could do it, it would probably be him. 

Nezumi raises his eyes to Shion's face and his stare is almost curious. He cocks his head, considering, then ever so slowly, so that Shion could move out of the way with a simple step, he leans forward and places five light kisses along Shion's left shoulder. Shion realizes that Nezumi is in fact, kissing the five red marks left by his first angry grip. Nezumi repeats the motion on the right shoulder. He moves, methodically, down Shion's body, stopping at each bruise to press a soft, warm kiss against each point. Shion's heart is pounding in his ears, he's probably flushing a color close to purple. His cheeks feel hot enough to ignite on their own. Nezumi seems unbothered, continuing down to place perfectly meticulous kisses along Shion's hips. Shion closes his eyes in mortification because there are parts of him that shouldn't be acting nearly as wantonly as they are in the face of Nezumi's kiss-it-better crusade. Nezumi however is undeterred, sinking down to crouch by Shion's feet, even placing a kiss against the toe Shion jammed against the door frame last week. Then, using his hands on the back of Shion's calves Nezumi turns him around and begins back up Shion's body. Shion was unaware that he had a bruise along the top of his butt, but then again he did fall down hard when ambushed by one of the dogs he was washing earlier this week. Shion tries not to jump, unable to quite anticipate where Nezumi's lips will land next. Finally, Nezumi is placing one last kiss, tender against the side of Shion's neck where Shion is absolutely certain he doesn't have a bruise. But then, perhaps the red line of scaring there could also count. 

Nezumi steps away and Shion turns around. Surprisingly, Nezumi's cheeks are also flushed.  
"Um," Shion clears his throat. Nezumi averts his eyes, turning aside from Shion's nakedness with a wave of his had like this has all be completely normal. Shion is not letting it go at that. Shion steps forward, tugging Nezumi around by the front of his shirt. "Hey!" Nezumi is startled enough by Shion's use of force that he doesn't back away, stays close enough for Shion to lean up and seal their lips together. For a moment Nezumi's hands flutter at his sides, opening and closeing into fists. Finally his hands flutter down over Shion's back, soft as butterflies as his mouth goes soft. Shion holds him tighter, tilting his mouth into the kiss with a hunger that does in fact turn it deeper, almost bruising. Nezumi repsonds with a gutteral throaty sound, but his hands pull at Shion's shoulders, gently. It's gentle enough that Shion could resist, could continue kissing Nezumi, but he doesn't.  
"I really," Nezumi swallows, "have to shower and leave. The audition." Nezumi looks at his watch. "I need to leave five minutes ago, but if I hurry I'll still have enough time." It almost sounds like an apology. Shion shrugs, steps back to lean against the sink.  
"Can I watch?" Nezumi swallows again, but he nods slowly, the soft pink color across his face growing more pronounced. Shion smiles.

As Shion expected, Nezumi's body is mostly unmarked, white lines of scar here and there, and the shining-red-white cascade of burn scars up his back, but no bruises. Shion takes the time to admire the bunch and flex of Nezumi's shoulders as he takes down his hair. He shakes it out so it falls around his shoulders in extremely lovely waves. Shion reminds himself that he's just looking and does not thread his fingers through that hair. Nezumi throws a smirk over his shoulder like he knows what Shion is thinking. He showers briskly, not putting on a show, but Shion doesn't mind, watching contentedly as Nezumi shakes water from his eyes.  
"I really do have to go." Nezumi says, tossing Shion the towel.  
"I'm not stopping you." Shion agrees, but he continues when Nezumi turns to go, "but I expect you to come back here straight away. I'm going to shower, since that was originally my intention, but I do believe you've started something, that I certainly hope you intend to finish. Well I intend to finish it, and if you get back here in time you could be part of that processes." Shion tries not to smirk too hard himself, but Nezumi's startled expression is equally sweet. "What are you waiting for? The sooner you go, the sooner you get back!" Shion doesn't wait to hear the door close, and steps into the shower.


End file.
